who: hercules & @peloponnesianminute where: the snuggly duckling
He'd come as soon as he'd gotten from one of the other Duckling bartenders that something had happened to Meg. Hercules had practically driven like a madman, at the kind of speed with which he would've been pulled over had anyone cared what was going on on the roads tonight. He refused to lose her like this--without her knowing just how much he'd grown to love her. They'd left things on the kind of note that would make a person forever regret not getting to take it all back, to tell her that he should've listened to her all along, and that nothing was more important than simply having her in his life.
It might've been some cruel prank, or maybe just a simple mistake, but the moment he burst into the Duckling, practically taking the door off its hinges, there she was: Meg, standing where he could usually find her, behind the bar. Her shirt was bloodied, but she was standing just fine, as though nothing had happened to her, after all. "Meg?" he called out, praying the vision of her looking unscathed wasn't just a dream. Herc approached the bar slowly, moving through the thick crowd. "What happened? Someone told me ... were you hurt? Are you hurt?"
